NO one is taking accountability for Laurie Guerra’s actions.
Read below as I dissect each paragraph and give my own personal opinion on what has been said.
Throughout my life, people have passed judgment on me based on the way I look, act or quite frankly who I am.
I think the way I present myself has a lot to do with my sensory sensitivities. For instance: I don’t “dress my age” and I prefer wearing comfortable clothing such as shirts that are a men’s size small, jeans, and slip on shoes. I rarely wear makeup and I usually just brush my hair and head out the door. It’s already so mentally trying to go out in to the world that the energy I would use to make myself presentable gets used up so fast. By that time, i’m already beyond drained and I start feeling physically ill.
Sometimes I dress very casually and sometimes I look fancy.
My intellectual capacity is clearly questioned because some people, whether it’s conscious or not, believe that the way someone looks has to do with the way they think.
I was treated very poorly at a restaurant and I can’t say for certain that it had anything to do with the way I looked, but I wouldn’t be surprised. It seemed like I was stereotyped as dumb and trashy because of my use of coupons and was spoken down to – which i’m still feeling anxious and upset about.
The English idiom “don’t judge a book by its cover” is a metaphorical phrase which means “you shouldn’t prejudge the worth or value of something by its outward appearance alone”. For example “That man may look very small and insignificant, but don’t judge a book by its cover – he’s a very powerful man in his circle”. —Wikipedia
Links of interest:
When I was younger, other kids would play with dolls. I didn’t care for them. I had no instinct to play with toys that were reminiscent of future motherhood. I preferred hot wheels, crazy bones, reading books and once in a while I pulled the heads off my sisters Barbie dolls. When I got older, Pokemon was all the rage and you’d often find me on my lime green game boy colour. The motherly instinct never arrived and I was completely fine by that.
I was with my family at an outdoor square yesterday and as everyone was conversing, there was this lady with her crying infant. The screams tore through me like the feeling of walking on shards of glass. It was immensely painful to listen to. I couldn’t take the shrill, repetitive noises. I felt just as though I was going to get the worst migraine ever. I started feeling anxious, panicked and ready to leave. At this point, I wished I had a pair of some really good sound cancelling headphones or a pair of earplugs that filter all the sound out. My sensitivity to loud noises was being tested and I was feeling very frantic. I just wanted it to stop, so badly.
I have never seen myself as a Mother. Hell, I don’t even consider myself very feminine.
Having a child and having those responsibilities is something that shouldn’t be taken lightly. There’s a lot of financial resources needed and a lot of time, effort and stress – none of which I even would remotely ever want to take on. I am happy being an Aunt to two wonderful kids.
I also absolutely love, love, love my rescue cats. They fill any kind of need I may have to be nurturing, without making me compromise who I am. I love their pink jellybean toes, cute noses and small tiger-like qualities. They are my little house lions.
It’s not like I don’t support other people’s children. (Doesn’t even matter if I want to or not) It’s mandatory as it is included in taxes which are then given back in the forms of tax rebates if you have children. There are also a lot of politicians touting free childcare as part of their campaign promises to lure voters.
The last week or two of September were exceptionally cruel to me and even still the withdrawal symptoms linger. I have been strongly against taking these pills ever since I was a child. My childhood Psychologist would constantly mention these as an option to help curb my mood disorders and I was always hesitant and frustrated. I would put up a fight till my eyes were read and tears were streaming down my face.
This was not something I wanted to do. I did not want to partake in taking pharmaceuticals to help me. I didn’t even like taking Tylenol for any generalized pain.
I felt like being alive was bad enough;
I might as well suffer.
Fast forward to now and I still feel like a shell of myself. I’m always worried about the actions of other people and how they create a lasting impression on me. If someone says something rude, I dwell on it. I ask myself repeatedly why they did that and I start to feel unwell about it. I negatively obsess.
My activism, coupled with the horrible emails I receive from companies, corporations and wealth management companies make my mood worsen. I try to focus on the bigger picture and the hopes of creating a positive impact through my own pain and the pain and misunderstanding associated with my peers in the #actuallyautistic community.
I have tried three types of pills: Escitalopram (Cipralex/Lexapro), Sertraline (Zoloft) & Venlafaxine (Effexor XR) with absolutely no positive experiences.
The Cipralex left me feeling very hollow, very distracted and very much like I was just dragging myself to do anything – although, out of the three I tried, it worked the best.
The Zoloft didn’t seem to do much at all.
The Effexor XR just made me feel really unwell and my mood was worsened so, I decided to just stop without tapering off. The withdrawal effects were worse than what I expected. Sweats, vomiting, car sickness, the worst nausea I have felt in what seems like forever and a “shaky brain” feeling. There was also a strong need for a whole lot of sleep.
I went to another appointment to my Psychiatrist and it didn’t go particularly well. He is incredibly dismissive and has me in and out of his office in 5 minutes or less.
He asks me questions completely unrelated to my suffering:
“How are your parents?”, he asked.
“Well, I don’t REALLY talk to my Dad… so.. yeah. My Mom is fine though.. but why didn’t you just increase my dose of Cipralex?”
“Oh, If it wasn’t working at that dose then it’s unlikely it will work at a higher dose.” He then followed that statement up with another unrelated comment.
The sense of defeat and the dark cloud over me seemed to take on more rain at that instant. It’s apparent, This person, this professional, this DOCTOR who is supposed to help me just wants me out of his office as fast as possible. I like to call them “Fast Food Doctors” because you’re in and you are out very quickly so the Doctor can see more patients and make more money in a shorter amount of time.
My depression and anxiety make my already intense light sensitivity and poor balance much worse. I often feel like I’m going to faint or fall over and my heart starts beating a mile a minute.
Well, I can’t even work. How am I supposed to get anything done when I just am running out of viable options? I can’t afford to get any kind of mental health assistance where I can talk to a psychologist. That’s not in the cards for me.
My mood has been absolutely awful lately so I haven’t been able to get any words out. I still don’t feel like I can write anything in an adequate fashion….so here’s some photos of new things instead!
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